1. Were you popular in high school?
A. Yes (E)
B. No (I)
2. Do you play sports?
A. Yes (S)
B. No (N)
3. Are you good at math?
A. Yes (T)
B. No (F)
4. Is your room clean?
A. Yes (J)
B. No (P)
Summary: Punk looking Phil Lester moves to town and attends a school full of cliques. He doesn’t see his life going anywhere until he somehow manages to befriend the mute kid in school. Now he’s beginning to learn that life can take you anywhere, and is full of friends in unlikely places. But in the wake of a tragedy, Phil must learn to understand not just words, but actions. Because sometimes, the loudest cry for help can be soundless.
Warnings: Swearing, Violence
Word Count: 3,960
Chapter 3
The rest of the week was a drag. It was the same everyday: groan when waking up, skip breakfast, sulk until lunch, be curious about Dan, be annoyed with Luke, fight with Scott, and then go home. Phil’s life was this endless cycle of the same routine, and he was getting tired of it.
It was Saturday morning–or afternoon rather–and Phil didn’t know what to do with his life. He didn’t have anywhere to go or friends to hang out with, and he didn’t particularly want to stay at home with his parents all day. He supposed he could ask Luke what he was up to, but he didn’t want to hang out with him. Seeing him in English and at lunch was enough for Phil.
There was only one person Phil didn’t get annoyed with, surprisingly, and that person was Dan. But according to Luke, Dan doesn’t like to hang out with people outside of school. So he was out of the question.
It was raining hard outside. Phil could hear the heavy drops of water splattering against his window, making the day seem calm yet eerie. It rained quite a lot where he lived, and whereas most people get tired of the rain, Phil actually prefers it. Maybe it’s because of his “emo” like nature. He snorted a laugh.
“Phil, why don’t you actually try getting out of bed at a decent time?” his mum asked from his doorway. “I came to make sure you were still alive.”
“Barely,” he mumbled into his pillow. “It’s not like I had anything better to do today. Why would I get up earlier if I had nothing to do? That just means I would have to suffer a few more hours of boredom everyday.”
Phil’s mum chuckled. “With that kind of attitude, you will always be bored. Why don’t you go out and do something today? Explore the town?” she suggested.
“It’s raining.”
“Your point? A little rain never stopped you from doing anything.”
“Mum–”
“Leave the house. I don’t care if it’s by yourself or with a friend, but I want you gone for at least an hour today,” she said.
Was she being serious? “An hour!?” I’m sure this town doesn’t even have an hours worth of things to do,” Phil whined.
“Well, I guess if you go out, you’ll find out if that statement rings true,” she said happily. “So, get up!” she said loudly. Phil shoved his head under his pillow and groaned. He was really getting tired of waking up.
******
Phil sat in the woods. There was a long stretch of trees on the far end of town, right outside the shopping district. Phil was able to sit inside the treeline, and watch everyone who passed in and out of shops. It was quite relaxing, if he said so himself.
He checked his phone to see he still had twenty minutes before his mum said he was allowed back inside. He was annoyed that she even made him go out and “do something.” He thought about heading home early and saying to hell with it, but that’s when he spotted Dan Howell wandering down the middle of the road, soaking wet from the rain. He had no jacket or umbrella on him, and no one around him offered him one. In fact, everyone around him acted as if he wasn’t there.
Phil got up off the muddy ground, and was going to head over to Dan and loan him his jacket, but Dan looked suspicious. He seemed to be taking in all his surroundings, noting everyone around him. Dan began skimming the trees Phil was hiding in, and out impulse, Phil leaped behind a thick tree to hide. He made himself seem as skinny as possible to his whole body would fit behind the trunk. He didn’t think he would have a problem with it, considering he was already small like a twig.
Phil waited a few minutes before peeking around the tree, only to find Dan gone. “Damn,” he muttered. Where did he go? Phil turned around, and that’s when he spotted Dan.
Dan was quite a bit away, almost far enough to where Phil couldn’t see him. Dan was walking quickly, trying to dodge the tree branches and fallen over logs.
Phil debated. Should he follow Dan or leave him be? If Phil followed him, that might be too nosy and intrusive. But Dan was being so damn suspicious. Why was he out wandering the woods, while it was pouring, without an umbrella or jacket at the very least? It was too off for Dan. So Phil followed.
It took him a minute to catch up. At first, he thought he had lost Dan for good. But he spotted him standing in a decent sized clearing, wide enough for the rain to fall freely and not hit anything on the way down. It looked straight out of a movie: the small opening the trees left for the sky to rain down its worst, the small bit of sun peeking behind the clouds, shining in the small portion of the circle, and a lonely boy standing in the middle of it all, looking like he’s contemplating his own life and everything that went wrong in it. But why was Dan here? In this lonely clearing? It was obvious that people don’t know about it. It was too deep in the woods. They couldn’t be seen here. That must be the point.
Phil remained still and silent behind a tree, watching Dan as he ever so slowly, got down on his knees and bowed his head. Was he praying? Phil never thought Dan to be the religious type.
Dan’s body began to wrack, and that’s when Phil knew he was “crying.” No noise came from Dan. Only his body shook with the illusion of crying. Phil wanted to so badly walk over to Dan and comfort him–whatever it was he was upset over. But he knew he couldn’t. What if Dan got mad that Phil followed him into the woods? Obviously this was a private moment Dan didn’t want anyone to see. Phil couldn’t just reveal himself now.
After a few minutes of silent crying, Dan stretched out on the squishy ground, and lied on his back to face up at the sky. It was still pouring, and he was still soaking wet. Phil cringed at the fact that Dan was lying on freshly rained on grass. He hated the sound it made and the way it felt after a good rain. Dan didn’t seem to mind it, however.
“What are you doing here?” an ominous voice asked behind Phil.
Phil whirled around to come face to face with none other than Scott. Scott as soaking wet as well–no umbrella, no jacket. What the hell was wrong with people in this town?
“Answer me!” Scott whispered harshly so Dan wouldn’t hear.
“I don’t have to answer to you,” Phil spit back. “It’s none of your business what I’m doing out here.”
Scott’s eyes showed anger, hatred. He actually looked a bit terrifying. “I bet you wouldn’t want Dan over there to know you’re here.”
Instinctively, Phil looked over his shoulder at Dan, who was still lying on the grass, letting the rain fall on him. “I was already out in the woods,” Phil said. “I just happened to see Dan passing through, so I followed him.”
“Well, leave,” Scott said darkly. “I don’t want to see you here ever again.”
Phil rolled his eyes. “That’s rich. You don’t even like Dan. What’s it matter what I do around him?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Phil remembered what Mr. Bureau said to him earlier in the week about Scott and Dan having a past together. Now if it was good or bad, Phil didn’t know.
“I said leave!” Scott shouted. This time, Dan did hear them. He shot off the ground and immediately caught Phil’s eyes. He looked over at the seething Scott, unsure of what to make of this encounter. “Now!” Scott screamed at Phil.
“Fuck off, Scott! Don’t talk to me like that.” He had no right.
Scott’s eyes flared with anger, and that’s when he pushed Phil.
Phil fell into a tree, catching himself before he could hit the muddy ground. He charged at Scott, who was slightly prepared for the attack, but not fully as he fell to the ground, taking Phil with him. Scott began throwing hooks, and he landing one right in Phil’s jaw. Phil threw one back, hitting Scott square in the nose. Blood gushed from it, covering Phil’s fingers in blood.
Strong hands grabbed Phil from under the arms, yanking him off of Scott. He almost threw a punch at the person lifting him up, but didn’t when he caught the warm gaze of Dan’s eyes. That was when everything stopped. Phil shrugged Dan off, stepping away from Scott who was still lying on the ground. He was gingerly touching his nose, wincing each time he did.
Phil let the rain wash away the slick blood on his fingers, though it didn’t help the dried blood under his fingernails. He would have to scrape it out when he got home.
The three boys looked at each other in silence. All were soaking wet and now covered in mud. Phil used to be dry, for the most part. Now he wasn’t. Scott and Dan still looked the same, only covered in slightly more mud than they previously were.
“Don’t ever touch me again,” Phil threatened to Scott. His voice was dark, deep.
“Don’t come out here again,” Scott threatened back.
Phil scoffed. “You can’t tell me where I can and can’t go. These woods aren’t yours, Scott.”
“You want to see about that?” he says.
This time, Dan rolled his eyes. He stepped in front of Phil, blocking his vision of Scott. Dan leaned down and inspected Scott’s nose.
“It’s probably not broken,” Phil says. “Just a little bleeding is all.”
“I should tell the police you assaulted me,” Scott says, spitting on the ground.
Phil laughed. “Why? So I can tell them you hit me back? There’s a witness here,” Phil said, gesturing to Dan. “He saw both of us hit each other.” Not to mention that Dan’s dad is a police officer. Surely he would believe anything Dan told him.
“Dan won’t say shit, will you?” Scott said harshly. “You haven’t uttered a word in years, and you’re most certainly not going to now, are you?”
Judging by the sound of Scott’s voice, which was low and threatening, Phil concluded that they must have some deeper meaning to them. A meaning Phil has no clue about.
Dan flinched at Scott’s words, saying nothing. All he did was back away, getting closer to Phil. Dan stopped in front of him, taking on a sort of protective stance.
Phil was entranced by the scene. He didn’t know what to make of the tension between Scott and Dan, and Dan’s need to feel protective over him. He was flattered, in an odd sort of way, but also slightly annoyed. He could handle Scott. He was just another average school bully.
“Yeah, hide your boyfriend, there. If I wanted to hurt him, I would have.” Scott looks pas Dan, directly at Phil. “This is a warning. I don’t want to see you out here again.”
“Whatever,” Phil said, shrugging it off. The chances of him actually coming back to these woods to hang out were slim, but now that Scott told him to stay away, well … “You can expect to see me here again. These aren’t your woods. If I want to come here, I will.”
Scott snorted. “And next time you do, I will hurt you. To the point where you wish I would have killed you instead.” Scott stood up, throwing a warning glare at Dan and Phil before storming out of the woods and back to wherever he came from.
“Moron,” Phil muttered.
Dan spun around, panic lacing his features. He grasped Phil by the shoulders, shaking him slightly while shaking his head side to side. He was trying to tell Phil something–warn him about something. But what?
“Dan, I–I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.” Phil felt bad for making Dan’s silence seem so … inconvenient, but there was only so much Phil could retain and comprehend with a few hand signals and head shakes. He was going to have to write this one out.
Dan patted down his soaked hoodie, reaching in the pocket for his cell phone. He kept his phone is a clear baggie, making it dry and safe. He’ll protect his phone but not himself? Phil thought. Dan began typing rapidly on his phone, handing i tto Phil when he was done. The message read:
Don’t come out in the woods again. Please. Scott is serious.
“Yeah, well Scott doesn’t scare me,” Phil replied with a frown. “Why are you even afraid of him? Why is anyone? He hits like a small dog and only uses words as his attack. They’re not even harsh half the time.” Phil folded his arms across his chest. He was annoyed with the day, and he’s only been awake for a little over an hour.
Dan snatched the phone from Phil’s hand, and typed something else.
I don’t want him to hurt you.
“He’s not going to,” Phil assured. “I’ve dealt with violent bullies before. He barely even counts as a bully. He’s just someone who is more annoying than most.”
Dan didn’t seem too convinced. If anything, he looked terrified. Phil couldn’t place why, though. Scott and Dan must have had a rough past.
“It’s all good, I promise. I probably won’t come back here again. I was only out here because my mum told me to leave the house and not come back for an hour. I was hanging out, saw you, and then–” Phil stopped there. Does he tell Dan he followed him to the clearing?
Dan nodded slowly, as if he knew what was going to come next anyway. He knew Phil had followed him.
“Sorry,” Phil said. “I was just curious as to what you were doing going deeper into the woods.”
Dan shrugged. He must not be too bothered by it. But he doesn’t answer what exactly it was that he was doing out in the woods in that clearing. It also doesn’t explain why Scott was out here, too. Was it a coincidence that they were all out here at the same time? Phil liked to think not. For him, at least. Maybe Scott had some other motives neither of them knew about.
“Well, my hour is probably up. I should go home.”
Dan nodded, and began walking in the direction he came. He looked back at Phil, jerking his chin towards the exit of the woods. Phil followed. Dan must be ready to go home as well. Phil didn’t blame him.
They both walked in silence, much to Phil’s dismay. Dan didn’t talk (which wasn’t unusual) and Phil remained quiet, not wanting to say anything, because if he did, he would end up rambling about unimportant things. He didn’t figure Dan wanted to hear any of his pointless nonsense.
They arrived on Phil’s street, and finally, the rain let up. It was barely drizzling now, causing Dan to shiver. His teeth clattered together.
“Perhaps next time you should wear a heavier coat?” Phil said, laughing a little to lighten the mood.
Dan looked glum.
“Then maybe not.”
Dan smiled.
“I–”
“Philip Lester!” A voice yelled behind him. He knew the voice all too well. His mum stood at the front door, eyes wide. “What are you two doing soaking wet!? Get in here!”
Shit. “He’s got to get going, mum!” Phil yelled. On any other day of the week, Phil wouldn’t care if Dan went inside his house to just hang out. But today … no. Phil wanted to be left alone after that episode on the woods.
“I don’t care! Both of you, come inside and dry off before you get sick.”
Phil rolled his eyes when only Dan could see. “What is it with mothers thinking that one drop of water out in the cold will get you sick?” he muttered.
“Phil!”
“Fine!” he yelled back. “I guess …”
Dan nodded, a smile playing on his lips. He gestured for Phil to go first, so he did, and Dan followed.
Phil’s heart hammered with nerves. Why was he so nervous? He’s talked to Dan everyday for the past week. It must be because Dan was going inside of Phil’s home. Entering someone’s house was a sacred act. It was inviting them inside your personal space–a place where one can learn all about you. It freaked Phil out.
“What have you been doing?!” Phil’s mum exclaimed when they walked through the door. “You’re covered in mud! And you … oh my. You’re soaked!” she said to Dan.
It just now occurred to Phil that his mum had no idea that Dan Howell was standing in their entryway, shivering from the lingering rain on his skin. He should probably tell her.
“Were you two mud wrestling?”
Phil shot a glance at Dan, who waggled his eyebrows up and down. Phil’s face heated up immediately. “Uh … um, no,” Phil stammered out. “Just got rained on and slid a bit on the grass. Ended up falling at one point. Hence the mud.” He didn’t need to tell his mum he got into a fight in the middle of the woods. It wasn’t that serious.
She made a “tsk” noise with her tongue. “Go upstairs and find something dry to wear. Get something for your friend, too. I’ll make some hot chocolate or something.” His mum shooed them away.
“Mum, D–”
Dan placed a hand on Phil’s shoulder, shaking his head no. So he must want to stay then.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Nothing. Come on,” Phil said to Dan. He took Dan up the stairs and to his room. Phil began digging through his dresser for something to wear, as Dan stood idly in the middle of the room, looking around. “Now, you’re like a fucking giant, so I don’t know if I have anything that will fit comfortably.” He plucked a black jumper from a pile in his second drawer. “We are about the same height, so that shouldn’t be a problem. You just have larger muscles than me, so …” he was rambling. He really needed to cut it out.
Phil spun around to hand Dan the dry clothes. Dan was holding up a piece of paper that said:
Very dark in here. Like your attitude. I like it.
Phil became immediately flustered. The look on his face must have been noticeable, as Dan scribbled something else onto the paper.
I like how your room represents who you are inside.
“Oh,” Phil said, his face flushing. “Thanks.” He looked for something else to day. Anything at this point would be good. “Where did you get the pen and paper?”
Dan smiled, pointing to the notepad next to Phil’s small TV.
“Ah,” Phil said. This was beginning to get awkward. “I’ll go in the bathroom and change. You change in here.” Phil gathered his clothes up into a ball and headed out of his room, shutting the door behind him.
Once in the bathroom, he shut and locked the door, slowly sinking down to the floor. “I’m so stupid,” he muttered. “Always rambling about shit. Fuck.” He threw off his muddy clothes, tossing them into the hamper, contaminating all of his other laundry with water and mud. He pulled on his deep blue jumper and sweatpants before hurrying back to his bedroom. As he opened the door, he was stunned by the sight.
Dan stood in the middle of Phil’s room, with only a pair on pants on. He was fiddling with the shirt, trying to get it to face the right way, but what Phil was really focused on was Dan’s back. It was muscular and covered in scars. The scars varied in different sized and thickness. It looked bad. Well, not as bad as what it probably looked when he first got the scars. But they lined every curve and edge of his back.
Phil wanted to move; jump back behind the door and pretend he didn’t see anything. But all was too late when Dan began pulling the shirt over his head and turned around, catching Phil’s blue eyes mid-stare.
The funny thing was, Dan didn’t look horrified, or even bothered by the fact that Phil saw all the scars on his body. If anything, he looked sympathetic. Dan grabbed another sheet of paper and scribbled on it.
They’re old. Don’t worry about them, I’m fine.
Phil stared at the chicken scratched letters without uttering a word. Dan added:
Just don’t tell anyone. Please.
Phil nodded. “I … won’t tell a soul. I should have knocked. I’m sorry, I just wasn’t thinking since this–”
Dan cut him off by putting his finger to Phil’s mouth. He smiled as he wrote:
You’re rambling drives me crazy. Stop!
Phil smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Can’t help it.”
“Phil! The cocoa is ready!” his mum called from downstairs.
Phil was silently relieved that his mum interrupted them, as Phil didn’t have a reason to be so awkward anymore about Dan’s body. Or rather, his scars. “Well, guess we better get it while it’s hot. Maybe we could watch an anime or something while my mum washes our clothes?”
Dan nodded eagerly. So he liked anime. That was a good bonus in Phil’s book.
The two went downstairs and grabbed their cups of cocoa from the kitchen counter. Phil grabbed some marshmallows from the cupboard. He plopped a few in his drink, then threw some into Dan’s. “I’ll be right up,” Phil told Dan.
Dan nodded curtly, heading back upstairs to Phil’s room.
“Your friend is pretty quiet,” Phil’s mum said from the laundry room. “Is he shy?”
Phil swallowed. He couldn’t avoid telling her forever. He didn’t fear that his mum would disapprove of their friendship, but he knew she would be all weird about it once she knew who was in their house. “He’s not shy,” Phil said. “That’s Dan Howell.”
His mum had a blank stare on her face. “Oh. Well, then…”
Phil groaned. “Mum, don’t be weird now. Dan is just like anyone else in this town.”
“I wasn’t going to be weird,” she said. “I’m just curious.”
“Isn’t everyone?” Phil mumbled. “Please … just leave us–him–alone.”
His mum chuckled. “I wasn’t going to do anything, Phil. Stop being dramatic and go upstairs. He’s waiting on you.”
Phil sighed, taking his cup of cocoa upstairs to the waiting Dan. Phil put on SAO to watch, which made Dan rather happy.
Dan fully submerged himself in the show, but Phil’s thoughts were elsewhere. Every now and then, he’d catch himself staring at Dan’s back. Of course, Dan had a jumper on now, so Phil couldn’t see what lied underneath. What Phil did now, however, was that it wasn’t just scars underneath that shirt. It was also secrets and curiosity, mixed with a dash of pain.
Even long after Dan changed back into his regular clothes and went home, Phil’s thought still lingered on Dan. Now, more than ever, Phil wondered who Daniel Howell really was behind his silence.
1) With or without Daddy, Princess must be on her best behavior. Her actions reflect on Daddy as her Caregiver.
2) If Princess begins feeling self-conscious about anything, she will stop and asked herself: “Is this really a problem?” and “Can I do anything about it?”
If the answer to both is “Yes” then she must perform the action to fix the problem.
If even one answer is “No” then she must immediately turn her focus on something else and forget the issue.
3) Princess will address Daddy as “Daddy” or any acceptable affectionate nicknames.
4) Princess will trust Daddy. Especially when trying new things.
5) Princess will not take advantage of Daddy’s generosity if he decides to treat/reward her for no reason.
6) Princess has the right to have hobbies, friends, and plans not involving Daddy. As long as all is approved by Daddy first.
7) Princess has the right to use her safe words in and out of “Pillow Play” without fear of judgement if she has a serious issue with an act or order from Daddy.
8) Princess holds the right to suspend our DD/l dynamic to speak outside the roles to voice any feelings or opinions. This will have a special safe word to it.
9) All of Daddy’s primal needs are the responsibility of Princess.
10) Princess’ body is the property of Daddy. Any deliberate damage done to it will be addressed by Daddy with appropriate consequences.
11) Princess is royalty, but answers only to Daddy. Everyone else can be stepped on.
12) Princess will maintain awareness of her surroundings when not with Daddy. To ensure safe return into his arms.
13) Princess will do her chores, homework and any other responsibilities in a timely manner.
14) Princess may only show Daddy her bare body. She may also with hold showing Daddy, but not out of Spite.
15) If Daddy is present. Princess must allow Daddy to help dress her, brush her, apply moisturizer, cut her food, and even use sharp tools like scissors for her.
16) Internet, TV, Games, Toys, Stuffies, Clothes and other amenities are a Privilege. Daddy has the right to take them as punishment, but not discard them.
17) Princess is entitled to space and alone time if required.
18) Princess is entitled to be clingy, needy, and some times demanding of Daddy’s attention/affection. Bar her behavior.
19) Princess will make no effort to deliberately harm or degrade Daddy for the sake of causing him pain.
20) Princess must tell Daddy of any rule she breaks immediately. She may also tell Daddy when she has earned a reward.
21) Princess must tell Daddy if anything he says or does makes her Princess parts tingle.
22) Princess will tell Daddy when she is in little space, sub space, or pet space. She must also tell him when she wants to enter those spaces, or has trouble entering them.
So i thought about the pros and cons of dying; because most people have decided one way or another, but their minds are clouded either way. suicidal people want to do it because of the pain–or lack of feeling–that they experience; that’s why i wanted to, but I realized that that is–for lack of a better phrase–stupid as fuck. Because someone told me, “it’s too early” and they were right. It doesn’t matter if you’re 10, 20, 30, 40, even into your 50s, it’s too early. Your life can go places. You could find a million dollars. Or, if you’re suicidal, you’re probably smart, because only a highly intelligent person can overthink something to the point of wanting to die. Stupid people require much more mental stimulation to feel the same levels of depression as people like us. Smart people get places. You can get places. And although you don’t think so, pain is always temporary. I don’t know if i believe that but I do know that at some point, maybe five years ago, I was NOT depressed. and therefore, it is POSSIBLE for me to be that way again. Dying now is pointless. Of course I suppose it accomplishes the goal of eliminating pain and all, but it eliminates the probability of getting better. Because no matter how far gone you are you still must understand that people do, sometimes, like you. I mean if you’re on tumblr you know this. People say nice things to you all the time. In real life, maybe not so much. To me, people do. I think people are nice sometimes, sometimes assholes like the bullies at school–the ones who make you feel worthless and suicidal because they keep saying you’re not good enough. You know what, though? Don’t listen to them. Nice people are the only ones worth listening to, because it’s harder to say something nice than something cruel. I know that all too well. I think that once you actually accept your talents and your skillset you can make shit happen. For example, I’m good at writing and I do standup comedy. I know a total of zero teenage guys in real life who do either of the above. Everyone is good at stuff like that. And the thing i’ve realized is: YOU CAN’T DO STANDUP AND YOU CAN’T WRITE SHIT IF YOU DON’T KNOW PAIN. That’s the point. You have to understand pain to make art. I play the piano, and I love it–I play expressively because of the pain. It’s like talking with my soul. Sometimes i feel like crying with feeling while playing. And i think that most great artists are tortured on the inside, aren’t they? You are special. And that’s too cliche, because everyone says it. You’re great, because you know pain. See, I realized, throwing that away is pointless. Because I understand now: PAIN IS A GIFT. I feel bad for happy teens. Because they don’t understand things the way I do. They will never be able to write a story like me, or play an instrument like me. Does this mean all writers and musicians are depressed? of course not. But some of the best ones were in very dark places. I don’t think that’s coincidence. And see, if you’re not in pain….if you’re absolutely numb and empty….which i am a lot of the time….then you probably still see no point. But that IS the point. It’s not permanent. Because you are human. You feel. You must feel. You feel when you see someone you love in pain. You feel something. You might think you’re empty but deep down there is something within you. You say you don’t care about anything but you really do, you just won’t admit it even to yourself. And anyway, none of this is really a convincing argument to stay alive. I mean, yay. So you can make art whoopdeedoo. But no….it goes far beyond that. Once you understand that your pain is temporary….which it is, because you do have seconds at a time you feel something other than depressed, i think. In the last six-seven years I think you’ve felt happy for at least five seconds total (that’s like less than a milisecond a day on avg) so you CAN feel better. I understand that sometimes it’s hard. But it won’t always be like this. I promise. It will not. Ask an adult. Any adult. Most of them were, as teens, suicidal at one point. MOST OF THEM. I promise you it will pass. It might last ten years; twelve. But it will pass eventually. And afterwards it will make you a stronger person. At least I think that’s what it’s doing to me…because I am recovering, after almost six years…and on a good day I have very few negative thoughts. On a good day I can see the beauty in little things–children playing tag at the park, maybe just how the sunlight catches a branch of a tree, just stuff like that. And on those days (this is not one of them) I think that maybe life is worth living. Right now, I want to kill myself. But i will not. Because I understand that this is not permanent.
2015 Jack Howard watching Hazel Hayes’s 2015 TOTM and visiting Ireland and Hazel’s family through her eyes and feeling all the emotions Jack looking at the way she put her heart and soul into her work and films Jack feeling jealous because she loved Ollie then and panics a bit Jack looking at her next to him, working on a project and feeling so FUCKING proud of her
I had a bad idea for an old meme and my friend had access to MS Paint.
Bonus:
What is your name?
How old are you?
Where do you live?
Do you have any pets?
Favorite fruit?
Zodiac sign?
Favorite season?
What sports do you play?
Introvert or extrovert?
Do you want kids?
When was your last break up?
Who ended the relationship?
Do you prefer boys or girls?
Do you play video games?
Do you go out with friends?
Do you like hosting parties?
Do you do drugs/smoke?
Do you drink?
City or Suburb?
Are you a social butterfly?
What are you doing/think right now?
matching icons for u and the other members of ur bearstack
holy shit???????????????
Kait Rokowski (A Good Day)
I love this so much
(via ti-bacio)
this…it hit me on such a hard level. i cant even describe it.
(via notsolegallyblonde)
I REFUSE!, a rant on how my female identity has been shaped by excuses and lies (via niallslittle)
like a year ago I saw a trailer for Some Fucking Romcom where I thought for the first thirty seconds the plot was “bride asks her gay brother and his boyfriend to get heterosexual dates for her wedding”
turns out the plot actually was “bride asks her two Commitmentphobic ™ brothers to get dates for her wedding” which, lame
I like my idea, where two gay dudes and two lesbians have to pretend to be straight for an entire weekend
“I can definitely pretend to be straight,” Lesbian One says, “I successfully pretended to be a straight man for twenty years.”
“No,” her girlfriend Lesbian Two says, “no you definitely didn’t.”
Lesbian Two, who is butch, discovers an eyelash curler. “What is this, a torture device?”
Gay Guy One hooks up with the DJ, the wedding planner, three caterers and the best man. Shenanigans happen as he narrowly avoids getting caught by the bride.
Gay Guy Two, of course, finds himself falling hopelessly in love with the groom.
At the climax of the movie Gay Guy One falls out of the closet where he’s making out with his latest conquest, the florist. The bride screams, eyeliner smearing from tears, about how he’s RUINING HER WEDDING and she didn’t choose to have a brother who was QUEER and why didn’t he ever think about HER and why couldn’t he just pretend to be NORMAL for her SPECIAL DAY–
the groom is like “honey, I’m bi”
the bride says “no, you’re not! you’re marrying me! you’re straight now!”
and then the wedding is called off and Gay Guy Two and the groom live happily ever after. the after-credits scene is Lesbian Two suspiciously poking her eyelids with an eyelash curler
Please write this movie.
(◡‿◡✿)
(ʘ‿ʘ✿) “what you say ‘bout me”
(ʘ‿ʘ)ノ✿ “hold my flower”
✿＼(｡-_-｡) “Kick his ass, baby. I got yo flower.”
i found it
the original post
i found it
this should have the opportunity to be on everyone’s blog.
